The Rain is Warm With You Here
by Estopher
Summary: "The urge to tease him is irresistible." (First Written: 11 Aug 2018)


You pull him under the dense foliage of a very large, very old tree; you're all but safe from the rain, save a few drops here and there. Julian doesn't seem to mind, even looks relieved as his back slides down the thick trunk, leather jacket scraping against the bark.

Following his example, you sit beside him. You lean your head back and close your eyes, savoring the small reprieve in between… well, everything. Nothing has stopped happening for days now, and you're growing weary of it all. Between running from guards and chasing Julian all over town, your exhaustion feels bone deep. You couldn't _imagine_ what Nadia would think if she saw you shacking up with Vesuvia's most sought after criminal.

Beside you, Julian's fidgeting, and before you can look to him curiously, his heavy coat is thrown over your head. You hold your breath as he snuggles in closer, shooting you a shy smile. "You looked cold," is all he supplies.

You are, so you welcome the extra heat and coverage. He smells of the leather that adorns him from head to toe, with the faintest scent of whiskey and warm herbs. It's comforting. You move closer, pushing his arm up enough so that it rests along your shoulders. At first, you think he doesn't notice, but the more you try to meet his eye, the more interest he gains in the mushroom to his left. He runs a gloved finger over the cap, but you can see the pooch of his lips as he pouts, the flush in his cheeks painted upwards to the tips of his ears in what looks like rough brush strokes.

The urge to tease him is irresistible.

"Embarrassed of a little contact, Devorak?" you say, having to speak louder than you'd want over the pouring rain. You imagine he hadn't expected you to speak any time soon, because he all but jolts beside you at your voice; when he moves his head quickly to look at you, rain droplets fly off his fringe and hit you in the eye. You make a noise of surprise and bring your hand up to rub at the stinging furiously.

"Oops, oh, terribly sorry." Julian sounds smug, and when you look up, blinking past the stars, he looks smug, that smarmy grin beating back the blush previously on his cheeks. So much for teasing him.

"You sound like it, yeah," you mutter. He leans closer, claiming he didn't quite catch that. You move your mouth directly over his ear, nose brushing the shell of it. You feel the shiver shoot down his spine. Maybe you can salvage this. "I _said_ , you sure sound like you're sorry."

As you lean back out of his personal space, Julian looks almost scandalized, which is hilarious considering your tryst back in the palace gardens. And at Mazelinka's. And the community theater. And…

You've come to the conclusion that the two of you are terrible, impulse control all but broken when your hands are on each other. Bad idea after bad idea… No wonder Asra seemed so concerned…

So you put your hand on his bent knee, and slide it carefully down his leg, stopping where his boot ends mid-thigh.

Julian looks down at you at the same time you look up at him; you can't quite place the look simmering in his eye, but you do know it chases the exhaustion out of your bones, warming you deeply. You trace the line of his strong jaw before tilting it to the side, making him face the tree at an angle. When you slide your fingers lightly down to his throat, you feel his adam's apple bob as he swallows.

"Expectant?" you purr, and Julian manages a toothy grin.

"Something like that. If you plan to taste at any point, I wouldn't be opposed." The color returns high in cheeks, his lower lip caught between his teeth.

"And if I don't?"

Julian hums as you bring yourself to rest on your knees, your mouth breathing warm air onto the cold skin of his neck. Goosebumps raise immediately along his pale skin, and despite your teasing words, you itch to have that taste. Julian grits his teeth. "That would be… disappointing."

You would have to agree. The hand that isn't groping at his thigh runs up his stomach lightly to rest on his chest; you rub small circles into his sternum, all but in his lap at this point, clutching at his other thigh with a force you didn't realize you had until he squeezes the back of yours. His other disappointingly gloved hand rests on your hip, thumb kneading your pelvis, hardly any pressure. Tease. The feeling just that simple touch does to you curls pleasantly in your stomach, snapping you to action.

You grab his jaw and bring it to your mouth forcefully, scraping a canine along his skin all the way down to the juncture of his shoulder. Julian groans so loud you hear it easily over the rain, and it only encourages you to bite down harder into the muscle. The grip on he has on the back of your thigh strengthens, the tips of his fingers digging into the curve where your backside meets it. You bite him again and he allows his head to fall to the side, giving you more room to work. A third time and his mouth opens slightly. Fourth is when the sounds come.

You bite and lick your way up to his ear, where you pull the lobe into your mouth and suck on it gently; Julian's hands have moved fully up to your backside at this point, and they squeeze and knead when sensation becomes overwhelming. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the bite you'd left on his shoulder has already healed over. The mark on his throat glows dimly as it heals the nip in his ear, and you watch it disappear with distracted interest.

Forcing his head up, you bend to mouth just under his chin, where his mark showed previously.

"Mmn, oh…" He whispers your name reverently, and you realize you can hear him perfectly. The rain has all but stopped, a few droplets splashing down into deep puddles here and there. How long had you two been going at each other? Julian makes another noise of approval and you find you can't bother enough to care.

When you finally bring your mouth up to his, he crashes your lips together, all tongue and teeth and heavy panting through his nose. You grip the sides of his face firmly, one hand snaking back to tangle into auburn strands, still slick with rain, cold to your warm fingers. Where did his coat go? He ruts against you, a wanton moan escaping him, and the thought is all but erased from your mind.

You could stand to stay here a little longer.


End file.
